Gravity
by HippieHebe
Summary: It only took the wedding day and a massacre of her bridesmaid dress to finally get over Sam Uley. ONESHOT.


Disclaimer: Meyer owns all.

xXx

The chapel was small, which just about fit the fair sized gathering. Close family and friends, nobody else. It was enough. The sun shone through the stained glass, casting colourful rainbows on the bouquets of lilies around the church.

Emily, dressed in a simple, yet beautiful and flowing gown of purest white, with her black hair piled elegantly on top of her head, stood at the alter. Decorating her temples on either side were white roses, from which her veil fell to meet with the gown's train and also to cover her face. The sheer material did little cover the to joy on her face, mirrored with the utter devotion of Sam's.

I was happy for my cousin, and happy for the man I still loved … Of course, everyone told themselves little white lies.

I was stood in the row aside from Emily with all the other bridesmaids. Identical with our hairstyles and Grecian style, peach coloured gowns. If I concentrated hard enough, I could match the looks the other bridesmaids had plastered on their faces. The look of joy for the couple. An hour later, and the main ceremony over and pictures were taken, my face hurt.

As we left the chapel and piled into our backyard, I was glad the attention had shifted to the food. Five tables full of appetizers, salads, desserts, soups and platters. There was enough food to feed an army, or better said a pack of wolves. Even the cake was seventeen inches wide and had four tiers. Jared and Paul, had jokingly replaced the marzipan groom with a wolf. Emily'd had _my_ dream wedding.

Taking a plate I moved to the salad bowls, as the boys surrounded the meat platters.

"I'm glad the wedding was short," Billy had said, as he spoke to Charlie. Both of at the buffet, plates full and still piling on the food.

"Yeah," Charlie agreed.

Funny. I mused. To me, the wedding never seemed to end. Each word had drawled on with deliberate slowness, against the deafening silence, it was almost unbearable. Taking a some salad I had drifted off to a lone table. I thought I would get peace from the constant oohing and ahhing, but people were in the mood to find me.

"Are you alright?"

_What do you fucking think?_

"It must be hard for you."

_No shit. Life's a bitch, huh?_

"You're so brave."

_Tell me something I don't know. _

It had got irritating fast. The looks of pity, the patronizing tones and sighs of worry. If anger management had been an issue the pretty peach dress, would have exploded into wedding confetti as I snarled and chewed on the remains of the guests who dared feel sorry for me. I wasn't pathetic. Just cynical.

I frowned when something huge blocked out the sun. Looking up I found Sam, looking down at me with his hand held out.

"Would you like to dance?" Sam had asked, his eyes full of guilt. I rolled my eyes. That look had gotten irritating, I had seen it everyday since the day he imprinted. Only now it was mixed with pity, and it had taken every last bit of energy not to stand up and deck him in the jaw.

From the sidelines I could see Emily watching eagerly. It had been her idea. She had thought she was being helpful, but it felt like a spiteful blow. Salt on an open wound, so to say.

"No thanks," I said, the tone of someone who was way out of his league. Putting my fork down, I stood up and pushed past him. Passing by the hurt look on Emily's face and the disapproving look on her mother's. Whatever. I had a right to act the way I had.

I walked out of the reception party with dignity and grace, and my head held up high. When out of sight. I ran. I ran as fast as I could in human form. I ran until there was no were left to run. Out of breath and slightly dizzy from the lack of air going in, and too much going out, I laughed as stood on a cliff above First Beach.

I finally felt free as I stared out into the horizon. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and smiled. Opening them again, I grabbed a fistful of peach chiffon, and ripped off the hundred and fifty dollar dress, throwing it into the crashing waves below. Somewhere behind me were the sixty dollar pumps, lying in the middle of the road, waiting to be shredded by a speeding truck.

So there I stood in a slip, half naked against the harsh, Olympic coastal wind. Not like it was anything out of the ordinary for a wolf.

"I don't like frilly dresses either," a deep voice had spoke. I had jumped, not accustomed to being taken by surprise.

The voice belonged to guy in his late twenties. He had dark blue eyes and chestnut coloured hair. His skin showed evidence of a summer tan and around his neck hung a camera. A photographer. La Push was a hotspot for photographers, with it's breathtaking scenery and amazing views of James Island. It wasn't until he held out his hands, I noticed he was holding the pumps I had kicked off.

"Do I have to wait till midnight to put 'em on you?" He said.

"I'm no Cinderella."

"I noticed," he said, looking toward the edge of the cliff, where I had hurled the dress. "So, you think the left or the right foot will hit the water first?"

As I looked into his eyes, I suddenly felt different. I smiled, genuinely smiled, for the first in time in what had seemed like a lifetime.


End file.
